


vibrations

by gotchick



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged Up NCT Dream, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Timeline Fic, fem chenle, idk - Freeform, nomin, sudden kiss?, unexpected kiss?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22154314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotchick/pseuds/gotchick
Summary: "I can’t live without you,” Jaemin says after another awkward silence, so quietly Jeno has to strain to hear."Are you sure?” Jeno takes a step into Jaemin’s personal space, the other trembling a little, almost eagerly. He takes a deep breath and grabs Jaemin’s hand, less gently than he intended. It’s a hand so familiar to him that it’s impossible he could find it so brand new.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 6
Kudos: 123





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so, i wasn't kidding when i said i know virtually nothing about nct in my previous fic - i still don't, but i'm slowly getting into them, though i probably won't have the right to write nct fic until two years later (apparently it's not a good time to get into dream too, with their uncertain future now ;;) but i couldn't wait. so as i mentioned in my previous fic, if you read this and see anything or anyone the slightest bit OOC, do leave me a comment to tell me so i can correct myself and improve! i hope you can overlook my inadequacies, and know that i don't mean to offend anyone in any way with whatever stupid mistakes i make :)

18.

Jeno can’t remember when he fell in love with Jaemin.

It’s so stupid, because they’ve only just turned eighteen and _love_ isn’t a word in their vocabulary, yet. At least, it appears that Jaemin has never fallen in love with anybody. If he had, Jeno would know. Jaemin would have told him, because they’re best friends.

Right?

Yeah, he decides. Unless Jaemin is a really good actor — Jeno guesses that unlike himself, Jaemin doesn’t know the meaning of love yet.

Which is a good thing, for his best friend of ten years. Because love hurts.

Jeno is eighteen when he falls in love for the first time, and it hurts like hell.

They’re graduating high school this year. They’ve been classmates for all three years of high school, and schoolmates years before that. Jeno sees Jaemin day in, day out, as much as he sees his family. By now he knows the way Jaemin eats, sleeps, laughs, talks, breathes.

Being with the other boy is like slipping into his most comfortable, worn, well-loved sweater. And he knows Jaemin feels the same about him.

Which was all well and good, until Jeno developed _feelings_.

If he had a choice of superpower, he would without hesitation pick the ability to stop time. Not only so they wouldn’t have to graduate high school and go to different colleges, grow up and become adults, but also because he has learnt that _growing up_ , becoming an adult means waking up more and more with urges he can’t control; thoughts that shock him with how filthy they are; random impulses throughout the day to tackle his best friend down and corrupt every single inch of him.

The days trickle by. He watches Jaemin walking by his side to and from school, in blissful oblivion; and Jeno’s heart feels like it’s been ripped down its seams. At the same time, this agony is somehow sweet.

After the end of the year, he knows, even this pain will feel like a missed, lost pleasure — the shiver of being in Jaemin’s presence, the pure sensation.

Greedily he catalogs every piece of how Jaemin looks now, in his pristine, untidy school uniform; not a boy anymore, but not yet a man. Doing this makes his obsession intensify, but he knows he has to because their days of being joined at the hip are numbered.

He’s already jealous of all the new friends Jaemin will meet in university, the admiring glances he'll attract and inside conversations and jokes that Jeno won’t understand.

He's never wanted anything more in his life, than to remain in this eternal summer forever.

"Don’t you want to be in the same school another three years?” he asks on the last day of school, testing the other.

They’re lying on the rooftop of their classroom building soaking up the last rays of sun. Jaemin’s hair reflects a burnished halo of fading late afternoon and Jeno has never seen anything so breathtaking.

"Why?” Jaemin widens his eyes in surprise, like the thought has never occurred to him. He elbows Jeno and breaks into that carefree laugh. “You’re so clingy, Jeno-yah. We should make new friends in university. Meet other people."

"Should we?” Jeno hears himself saying after a pause, his voice sounding strange. Jaemin glances over and he pastes on a fake smile, but Jaemin doesn’t seem to notice, beaming back.

"Yep! You think so too, don’t you?” Jaemin jostles his shoulder again, brotherly. Jeno wants to cry.

"Where are you going?” Jaemin sits up on his elbows, confused, looking a little scared; and Jeno realises he’s stood up, towering over Jaemin. His shadow engulfs the other boy and Jaemin shades his eyes against the sun’s glare, now looking concerned.

"What’s wrong?” he asks uncertainly.

"Nothing,” Jeno forces out, unclenching his sweaty fists in his uniform pants. “I’m heading home first."

"Yah! Don’t you want to go together? It’s the last day of school!” Jaemin calls after him, as if he needs to be reminded, isn’t aware of this fact in every cell of his body.

"Call me when you’re back!” Jaemin hollers resignedly, not getting up to chase after him. Jeno slams the rooftop door behind him, then slumps against it, banging his fist against the wood hard. The pain sobers him up.

20.

Jeno is two years older and he still wishes he didn’t know what love was. Jaemin now knows it too, apparently. In their second year of college he announced unceremoniously that he had started dating a senior in the Animal Welfare Society, the club he had joined in his first year. A hot college girl. Jeno has never met her but somehow he can picture her — kind, pretty, gentle, classy.

Everything Jeno isn’t.

Jeno is still in unrequited love; still heartbroken. Maybe — he refuses to admit it to himself — even more so; even more deeply.

He assumed he would give up when Jaemin got his first girlfriend, which he eventually would. When Jeno knew for sure Jaemin likes girls, and only girls.

He didn’t expect that the pain could get worse, thinking of his crush now belonging to another person.

"I thought you said we should meet other people."

They’re sitting in a cafe on a Sunday morning near the end of the year when Jeno blurts this out. Jaemin stops sipping his iced latte, looking surprised.

"What?” He smiles in that confused, guileless way. Jeno’s heart throbs angrily.

"Make new friends.” He crumples his napkin up and starts shredding it.

Jaemin glances at his hands worriedly, then reaches out over the table to cover one of them. Jeno stops, mouth falling open a little. His hand tremors under Jaemin’s warm, callused palm.

"We only meet once a week,” Jaemin says after a beat, sounding pained now, and uncertain. Jeno feels a pang of satisfaction, viciously wanting to hurt him more.

"You’re too busy?” Jaemin looks directly at him, regret in his eyes.

"Damn right,” Jeno snaps, then flinches at the hurt that flickers across Jaemin’s face. “I mean — I guess I can make time.” His voice is gruff now, his heart racing. He wants to bash a rock over his own head.

"You don’t have to,” Jaemin responds in a cold tone. His hand has left Jeno’s, and he picks up his melting drink, knuckles white over the glass. “Forget it.” In a rush, Jaemin slurps the rest of his drink up, then slams it down on the table.

Jeno just sits there, dumbly.

 _Anything else to say?_ He can read Jaemin’s expression as he stands up with a scrape of the chair and towers over Jeno, his arms folded and face hard.

One, two, three seconds tick past. Jeno can feel warmth in his ears, spreading to his cheekbones; and the dark secret in his heart makes him absurdly self-conscious, paranoid Jaemin will be able to read his thoughts, as he’s often done.

Jaemin’s eyes narrow with the growing silence, his lips pinched. After what seems like a lifetime, he sighs irritably and breaks the ice in a short tone.

"Call me when you’re free. Or don’t, I don’t really care."

21.

They haven’t seen each other in more than six months. _Call me when you’re free_ , Jaemin had snapped. Jeno hasn’t had the guts to, yet.

Neither has Jaemin reached out to him, not even by text.

Jeno obsessively checks if Jaemin has blocked him on all their instant messaging apps. It appears he hasn’t, which is somehow worse. It seems he just doesn’t care.

Has he forgotten Jeno?

Moved on? With his pretty girlfriend and new friend group Jeno has never met, because he hadn’t wanted to when Jaemin offered to introduce them?

Does he know that Jeno — extroverted, gregarious Jeno — has become a loner in university?

Nobody would like him, the way he is now, Jeno thinks pessimistically. He’s more guarded, less patient, even with his family. He broods a lot, especially when he thinks about the fact, the _secret_ that he’s gay.

He’s admitted to himself, finally, that he doesn’t like girls. At all. He’d wished so desperately he was bisexual — in his mind, that would be marginally more normal — but his body was unrelentingly honest.

Almost all these changes, he realises, are because of Jaemin.

It was Jaemin who made him discover his sexuality, so early on; he unreasonably thinks. He’d ruined Jeno’s whole college experience. Everything had been so much easier, happier, before he went and fell in love so foolishly.

He moved out to live by himself some time ago, not wanting to hurt his family’s feelings with his constant awkward silences and withdrawals into himself. He was also wary of them sensing his thoughts, his predilections. His perversions.

He stumbles back to his rental, shoebox-sized apartment one day, sick as a dog with the flu bug going round the college campus. He’s dizzy, dazed and feels like throwing up.

When he sees Jaemin standing in front of the letterboxes at the stairwell leading up to his apartment building, Jeno halts in his tracks so abruptly, he nearly staggers off balance.

In a flash, Jaemin is beside him, his entire body pressed flushed against Jeno as Jeno collapses bonelessly against him.

Unwelcome, countless childhood memories of being taken care of like this, by Jaemin’s almost maternal tenderness, being nursed with wet towels and clumsily cooked broth, swirl about his head.

"Who called you?” Jeno slurs through the fog in his mind, as Jaemin carefully leads him up the short flight of stairs, allowing Jeno to lean shamelessly into the crook of his arm. “Who told you,” Jeno mumbles, nuzzling into Jaemin’s scent like a sniffer dog until it envelops him.

"You idiot.” Jaemin’s voice sounds deeper than he remembered, not a hint of animosity in it, worry-stricken. “Your mother did."

"I love you,” Jeno blurts out in a half-sob, then claps a hand over his mouth. Bile rises in his throat as he feels Jaemin’s body stiffening against him. Jaemin has frozen in his tracks, craning his neck to look down at him, eyes like saucers.

"What?"

"I missed you,” Jeno grits out, hoarsely, his heart pounding through his thin shirt. He heaves himself upright and fumbles in his messenger bag for his keys. Jaemin shoves his hand out of the way, eyeing him sharply, then adroitly fishes Jeno’s keys out of his bag pocket as if he does it every fucking day. Jaemin’s hand is shaking a little as he fits it in the lock, and Jeno feels his knees like jelly, running a rough hand over his face.

But — “I missed you too,” Jaemin replies in the smallest voice, as they step together into Jeno’s new house. Jaemin looks around, his face like an open book. Jeno hasn’t seen him for what feels like years and yet he can still read every bittersweet emotion that flits over Jaemin’s face like the back of his own hand.

"So.” Jaemin leans against the wall, one hand shoved in his pocket, his expression still reflecting slight awe. “You’re all grown up, Jeno-yah."

Jaemin looks like a whole _dish_ , standing there with his hip cocked, every inch of his buff shoulders visible through a tight tee and ripped jeans. Jeno’s heart lurches into his throat and —

He lunges towards the toilet to throw up.

Next thing he knows, he wakes up in his own bed, covers tucked up to his chest. It’s sweltering, or maybe he’s feverish, sweat sticking his bangs to his forehead. Jeno sits up, throat dry.

His bedroom is dim, and at first he thinks he’s alone again but then noises drift from the direction of the kitchen.

It can’t fucking be — but Jaemin is walking in, in an apron he dug out from god knows where, looking so gorgeous and edible Jeno’s head spins. He’s bearing a pot in his hands.

"I made soup.” Jaemin looks sheepish, his cheeks flushed pink probably by the steam. “There wasn’t much in the fridge, I’m sorry.” He quickly takes off the apron after sitting down on the bed beside Jeno, who shifts away as if Jaemin’s skin burns.

Jeno turns away, feeling ugly, a wreck, his entire face flaming. He probably smells awful, too. Jaemin has seen him any number of times in states more disheveled than this, but it hadn’t mattered yet, back then.

"Jeno.” Jaemin nudges him, calling his name again in that plaintive way as if — as if he’s missed saying it daily until he almost mixes it up with his own. “You need to eat something. And take your medicine."

"Already taken it,” Jeno mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut and praying Jaemin will just leave him alone in his hell.

"Leave,” he starts to say, then stops. “You can go.” He struggles to make his voice gentler. “I’m okay now."

He can hear Jaemin hesitating behind him, hovering.

"No,” his best friend (ex best friend?) eventually says, with finality. “You’re still not feeling well. Let me feed you."

Stars are exploding behind Jeno’s eyes from how hard he’s pressing his eyelids together. At Jaemin’s words, he hears a distinct voice — not his, but nobody else’s — clear as glass, dangerous as glass in his head.

 _Well, you asked for it_.

Jeno sits up and turns around so fast, Jaemin doesn’t have the time to react. Suddenly — crazily, Jeno’s lips are crushed awkwardly against Jaemin’s and his hands are gripping Jaemin’s shoulders, fingers too bruising. Halfway through the frozen lip-lock he realises he probably tastes like puke, too, and this makes him let go.

Jaemin is staring at him, shell-shocked, horrified, his face white. As if in a dream, Jeno watches him lift the back of his hand to his mouth and wipe it, trembling. His lips are obscenely red. His face too.

"J-Jeno,” Jaemin croaks in that oblivious, innocent tone Jeno hates — adores.

"Why? It’s — the flu meds? You’re drunk on them?"

Jaemin sounds like he’s pleading. For the first time, Jeno feels his heart shatter cleanly in half.

"I —“ _Yes_ , Jaemin’s entreating eyes silently beg him to reply. _I don’t know what I’m doing_.

"I didn’t take any,” he hears himself saying through his pounding migraine. Jaemin’s mouth falls open stupidly.

_I did that because I wanted to_ , the anonymous voice in his head speaks up again.

"I did that because I wanted to,” Jeno echoes, hollowly, helplessly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone who left kudos and subscribed :) i finished up the rest for you, hope it doesn't disappoint!

22.

Their final year of university. This time, Jeno can count, remember the number of times they met in the past three years. It’s pathetic.

Since they reconnected after the six months of hardheadedly ignoring each other, they’d started meeting up with decent regularity again.

But soon, that tapered off too.

It’s only natural, considering how awkward and strained their decade-long friendship became after Jeno finally confessed his feelings in the worst, clumsiest way; and got rejected.

Specifically, all Jaemin had said — after the most embarrassing thing Jeno had ever done in his life — was, “I’m sorry."

The silence stretched between them like a cavern, that day in his bed. Jaemin didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to.

It was spelt out as clear as day in his eyes, the truth he was too gentle and too kind to break to Jeno.

 _I don’t feel that way about you_.

That twilight afternoon, Jeno had pretended to fall asleep. In his chest his heart felt like smithereens, splintered beyond repair. He heard Jaemin leave quietly, sadly, closing the door behind him. He must have been shaken by Jeno’s sudden move too.

Later he realised he shouldn’t have done that, come clean about his feelings; knowing as he did in his bones from the start that Jaemin could never love him.

He shouldn’t have hoped. In hindsight, he hated his naive, lovesick self. He’d been a fool and acted like one; and then he’d gone and ruined the most beautiful, pure friendship he’d ever had.

He has a renewed appreciation for Jaemin, simply for the fact that he tried his best, after that, to patch up their broken friendship, picking up the pieces and gluing them back together painstakingly.

He didn’t bring up the incident anymore, but his actions spoke loud and clear to Jeno. _I can’t lose you. Lose us_.

So Jeno stayed by Jaemin’s side, and tried to forget, pretend nothing had happened like Jaemin. He felt the gaping hole in his chest slowly festering into scar tissue.

It’s a random afternoon when Jaemin sends him an instant message.

 _I’m dating. My second girlfriend. Wanted you to be the first to know_.

Jeno stares at the sweet emoji at the end of the message for what seems like ages. Realising Jaemin is still online and can see he read the message instantly, he quickly forces his mind back into action.

It wrenches his heart to type, _Congratulations_.

Then he curses as he realises belatedly the mistake of following his message with a heart emoji. He winces at the read tick beside his dumb message.

There’s a pause, before Jaemin replies. _Thanks, friend_.

 _Friend_. Jeno’s heart is still twisting. He knows Jaemin isn’t doing this on purpose, but he needs a moment. He closes the conversation and tosses his phone to the carpet, hauling the covers of his bed over his face.

Jaemin had split with his older girlfriend, Yeri, soon after Jeno’s confession. He’d tried to believe he had nothing to do with it.

Jaemin deserves to be happy. Even if it’s not with Jeno.

And of course Jeno knew he wouldn’t stay single forever.

His phone buzzes again. Without even reading the message, Jeno knows it will be a warm invitation from Jaemin to meet his new lover. As soon as Jeno’d agreed, Jaemin had introduced him to all his new friends.

Jeno closes his eyes and prays for the strength to handle it.

23.

The broad smile on Jaemin’s face slips as he spots Jeno entering the cafe, and Jeno feels Jisung’s fingers on the nape of his neck, kneading his muscles playfully.

"You’re so quiet today,” Jisung is laughing as they approach the table, his full attention still on Jeno. “Loosen up, hyung."

Jeno smiles awkwardly, Jaemin tearing his eyes away as they near to stare at the table and pretending he hadn’t witnessed the moment. Jeno detaches himself from Jisung discreetly, but Jisung just grins wider and slings his arm around Jeno’s shoulders.

"Oppa!” Chenle greets brightly in her charmingly accented Korean. “Oh wow, who’s this?"

"A friend?” Jaemin quirks his lips, his smile somewhat stiff.

Jeno coughs. Jisung smoothly cuts in, “Actually, we’re dating."

Chenle covers her mouth as Jisung giggles. “Really? Wow! Jeno oppa, I didn’t know you were —"

"Your friends don’t know you’re gay?” Jisung prods Jeno, with a teasing smile.

Jeno swallows, avoiding looking at Jaemin from the corner of his eye. Jaemin is gulping down his Americano.

"No, no, I didn’t mean that!” Chenle is quick to clarify. “Of course I knew.” Jeno shoots Jaemin a look at that, but Jaemin is looking at his lap now and doesn’t see.

"I just didn’t know you have a boyfriend,” Chenle explains. “How wonderful. I’m happy for you."

Jisung takes her hand and shakes it, introduces himself, so gentlemanly Chenle blushes.

Jaemin stands up just as Jisung and Jeno settle into their seats.

"I have to go to the restroom,” he says, smiling down at Chenle, but doesn’t meet Jeno’s eyes as he strides away.

When he returns five minutes later, though, he’s back to his normal self, all smiles and warmth. Jeno heaves a sigh of relief, though Jaemin is kind of obligated to like Jisung since Jeno has become Chenle’s friend on account of him.

Later that night, Jeno tosses and turns in bed. Jisung had wanted to sleep over, but he made an excuse, wanting to be alone.

He’d thought the awkwardness between them was almost completely thawed. He knows Jaemin doesn’t mind that he’s gay, but he hadn’t expected such a cold reaction to actually seeing Jeno dating a guy.

His first boyfriend, he thinks, closing his eyes. He’d never thought he would find somebody who loved him. Jisung is so amazing, he’d kind of wanted to show off to Jaemin a little; or maybe just reassure him. _I’ll be just fine without you_.

His phone buzzes as he’s drifting off from the emotionally exhausting day.

 _You should’ve told me you were bringing him_.

Jeno is startled by the abrupt text. It takes him a while to think of what to say. He’s typing Sorry, I should’ve, when Jaemin sends another message.

_You sure moved on fast._

_Congratulations, Jeno-yah. I guess you’re still with him. Sorry for disturbing you. Good night_.

The last message arrives before he has the time to respond, still staring slack-jawed at the blue screen of his phone.

24.

Jaemin notices the difference in his apartment on the very first day.

"Where did Jisung’s stuff go?"

He looks up from the couch, wide-eyed, watching Jeno closely.

Jeno clears his throat and sets down Jaemin’s coffee in front of him.

"We broke up.” He scuffles his foot on the carpeting.

Jaemin gapes. “When? Why didn’t you tell me?"

Jeno rolls his eyes, feeling kind of sick. He slumps back on the love seat.

"It was just this morning."

"So.” Jaemin prods delicately, lifting his cup to his lips so Jeno can only see his bright eyes above the rim. “Why’d you split? A fight?"

"No. I don’t want to talk about it."

"You still have feelings for me?"

Jeno sits up so fast, Jaemin nearly spills his drink. He can’t actually tell if he just hallucinated what he heard.

" _What?_ "

"Nothing,” Jaemin replies after a pause, no longer meeting his eyes.

"Actually, we should stop seeing each other so often too,” Jeno blurts out, after a protracted silence.

This time Jaemin chokes a bit on his drink. He’s still coughing as he puts it down, eyes watering.

"What’d you say?"

Jeno sets his jaw, pillowing his head on the back of the couch. Every muscle of his body aches. “It’s kind of tiring."

"Why?” Jaemin’s voice is unnaturally shrill. His eyes pin Jeno’s.

"What is this about? What happened with Jisung?"

"It’s nothing to do with him. Don’t flatter yourself, Jaemin-ah.” Jeno watches Jaemin grimace at the insult. His very presence awakens so many painful memories in Jeno, it feels like he’s drowning. Even the hurt he can read clearly in Jaemin’s eyes, now — that hurts, too.

Even when he was with Jisung — when he was supposed to be happy — it felt like the part of his heart that knew happiness was somewhere else.

It chafes, every time he sees Jaemin. Like a sore, like a wound that keeps reopening.

"I loved you more than I loved myself,” he hears himself saying, Jaemin’s eyes rounding.

"I wanted you more than I’d ever wanted anything."

He’s careful to emphasise the past tense in the statements, but his face is still burning. He has no idea what he’s saying.

"I was a mess,” Jeno finishes, lamely.

"And you could just stop… like that?” He hears Jaemin’s voice as if from far away, breaking through the invisible walls around him.

"You could just turn off those years of feelings?” Jaemin asks again, looking right at him. His face is bright red too, as if he’s drunk.

He’s so cruel, asking things Jeno knows don’t matter to him. Jaemin with his girlfriend and his happy, blissful, lovey-dovey relationship. _You’re so greedy_ , Jeno wants to wound him by saying.

Instead, just to see the way Jaemin’s face falls, he replies, “Yes. I could."

25.

"I think I like you."

Jeno’s phone rings in the wee hours of the morning, and it’s Jaemin’s voice on the other side of the line, saying words he can’t comprehend.

"What the hell are you talking about? Did you call the wrong number?"

"I think I love you, Jeno."

" _What?_ "

"You heard me.” Jaemin sounds anguished, for some reason.

"Is this some kind of joke? It’s not funny."

"It’s not.” Jaemin is starting to sound upset, and angry. For some reason he sounds like he’s about to cry too.

"Where are you?” Jeno softens his voice, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes. His heart is racing a mile a minute, and he places a hand on it weakly, amazed just a few words in that familiar bass could send him off the edge like this.

"At home.” He hears Jaemin’s voice across the vacuum, and suddenly wishes they were right next to each other so he could see Jaemin’s expression as he spoke these words Jeno had dreamed of hearing so much, they no longer sounded real.

"Forget it,” Jaemin slurs after a long pause, not drunk, just sleepy. Jeno wonders if he’s sleep-talking. Probably. That’s the only reason that can explain this.

Still — how unkind of him.

It was his own fault, for lying that he no longer had a single shred of old feelings, but still.

Jaemin hangs up when Jeno doesn’t respond, and Jeno lies in bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying the conversation for what feels like hours until he dozes off.

26.

"Remember that phone call I made to you in the middle of the night last year?"

"What phone call?"

"There was only one…"

"… What’s going on? I only agreed to meet you because you said you broke up with Chenle. Was that another prank?"

"Prank?” Jaemin blinks at Jeno’s scowl, all innocence. He looks saddened, and Jeno immediately feels bad.

"We did break up,” Jaemin admits.

Jeno inhales softly, the confirmation feeling like a light blow. “Why did you guys break up?” _You were so perfect together_ , he almost adds.

"Which is why I asked if you remembered the conversation we had on the phone.” Jaemin meets his eyes evenly, and Jeno breaks eye contact first.

"You were sleep-talking,” he stammers eventually, still studying the ground.

Jaemin takes a step towards him, forcing Jeno to look up. “I wasn’t."

"I miss you, Jeno-yah,” Jaemin says in the softest voice, his eyes searching.

I miss you too, so much it hurts, Jeno doesn’t say. He’d thought it’d stop hurting after Jaemin turned him down, but it didn’t. Neither did it stop when he deliberately distanced himself from his best friend. Sometimes the hurting seemed like it would never end.

"I wasn’t sleep talking,” Jaemin repeats, letting the full implications of his words sink in.

When Jeno remains silent, completely floored and blindsided, Jaemin rummages in his pocket and produces a wrinkled slip of paper.

"What’s that?” Jeno asks suspiciously, voice gruff.

Jaemin’s lip twitches, but he keeps his face serious. His voice is oddly nervous as he explains, “I was eating the fortune cookies Chenle gave me. I found this."

Jeno takes the paper from him, their hands brushing. There’s a tingle of electricity and he hears Jaemin’s breath hitching.

 _You can’t escape your fate_ , the fortune cookie paper reads.

"The heck is this?” Jeno bursts out, the tension between them uncomfortable. “Sounds like a threat —"

Then Jaemin’s lips are on his, tentative, a stiff pressure. Jeno pushes him away, and Jaemin stumbles back, apology written on his face.

"I’m sorry! I just wanted to test —"

"Test what?” Jeno’s hand is on his lips, feeling debased. Jaemin is blushing so hard he almost feels sorry for him.

"What the fuck do you want —“ he starts, advancing towards Jaemin to grab his shirt, punch him, or something — but Jaemin is speaking over him, his voice coming out too loudly.

"I like you!"

They both freeze at the earth-shattering words, their eyes locking. There’s so much sincerity and nothing but honesty in Jaemin’s eyes, his entire heart bare in them, that Jeno breaks their gaze first.

Struggling to get ahold of his composure, he lifts his eyes again and bores them into Jaemin’s, unable to even begin to put his questions into words.

"I… developed feelings.” Mercifully, Jaemin stutters to explain. “I mean — I realised my feelings, I think?

"I definitely had them for longer than I knew,” Jaemin finishes with conviction, as if he hasn’t just taken Jeno apart and put him back together again.

"Are you sure you…” Jaemin continues, seeming to have started babbling out of nervousness when Jeno remains stony. “You don’t like me anymore?” Jaemin asks, looking up at Jeno, his eyes so imploring Jeno’s suddenly reminded that Jaemin’s that much younger than him — his baby. He’s always been.

There’s the longest silence in the world. They’re standing in the middle of the sidewalk, people occasionally milling around them, a trickling flow of them. Nobody pays them any attention. Nobody can tell this is the most surreal moment of his twenty-six years.

"You really hurt me.” Finally, he hears himself breaking the glasslike silence.

Jaemin’s eyes flare. “You hurt me too,” he responds quietly.

"You’re so selfish,” Jeno retorts roughly.

"You’re more selfish,” Jaemin snaps, fire in his eyes now.

"Then let’s just part ways here,” Jeno concludes, the devastation in Jaemin’s face at his words making something loosen in his heart, and start free falling again.

"I can’t live without you,” Jaemin says after another awkward silence, so quietly Jeno has to strain to hear.

Jaemin looks at him, eyes filled with worship. _Aren’t you going to say it back?_ The glint in them reads. His cheekbones are flushed so deliciously, Jeno knows that even if his love could stop, his lust for Jaemin’s physical body never will.

"We can be friends again,” Jeno concedes finally, suddenly feeling his age. Adulting really sucks.

"That’s not what I want,” Jaemin is quick to reply.

"Are you sure?” Jeno takes a step into Jaemin’s personal space, the other trembling a little, almost eagerly. He takes a deep breath and grabs Jaemin’s hand, less gently than he intended. It’s a hand so familiar to him that it’s impossible he could find it so brand new.

Jeno looks around them, then leans in to whisper in Jaemin’s ear.

"Do you know what two guys do together?"

Jaemin’s flush creeps down from the tips of his ear to his neck. Jeno wants to place his mouth on that sensitive spot, right where they are.

He doesn’t expect it when Jaemin carefully notches his chin over Jeno’s shoulder to whisper back, “I do."

Jaemin takes advantage of his moment of weakness to slide an arm around his waist so they’re pressed together and Jeno can feel every inch of Jaemin’s broad shoulders, his chest and abs and hipbones. Hugging in public — Jaemin doesn’t seem to care.

It’s almost like he knows Jeno’s Achille’s heel, and is trying to seduce him. Yeah, Jeno knew he was stupid to believe for a second Jaemin isn’t aware of how attractive he is and exactly how to use it.

"I didn’t know you were thinking about such things,” Jaemin continues whispering into his ear, which is now starting to feel wrong. “You’re such a dirty boy."

Jeno cringes, trying to squirm out of his embrace, blushing to the end of the world and back; but Jaemin holds him immobile.

"I’m not done yet,” Jaemin hisses in his ear, and Jeno’s body melts. He’s so humiliated, he feels as red as a lobster.

Jaemin finally seems to take pity on him and lets go. Jeno misses his strong arms almost immediately.

"So, Jeno, baby,” Jaemin purrs, a wicked, knowing smile on his lips. “How long have you been dreaming of me fucking you?"

"I fucking hate you,” Jeno growls, still unable to recover from the shock and embarrassment of Jaemin’s outrageous statement as they walk back to his house, holding hands.

Jaemin hums, grinning from ear to ear. He looks so happy, like when they were kids and playing together without a care in the world. Jeno would do everything and anything to keep that smile on his face forever.

"I hate you too,” Jaemin counters without missing a beat. “Baby."

27.

"What about Chenle?"

Jisung’s the one who brings Jaemin’s ex-girlfriend up. Jaemin tenses up when he hears her name out of the blue, and Jeno feels a throb of jealousy. He can’t even remember the last time he felt jealous, because Jaemin doesn’t even _look_ at anyone else since they started dating.

"What about her?” Jeno replies, before Jaemin can.

"I don’t know.” Jisung shrugs. “We’re still friends —“ he gestures to the three of them “— but I never saw her since Jaemin hyung broke up with her."

"You broke up with her?” Jeno turns on Jaemin. “You never told me!"

Jaemin is groaning, making a cutting signal across his throat towards Jisung. His face is pink.

"And you told Jisung?” Jeno continues, accusatorily.

"No, no!” Jisung quickly explains. “I bumped into her once after that, and I guess — she told me."

"And you didn’t get her number then?” Jaemin guesses. Both Jisung and Jeno gape at him.

"I… forgot.” A blush is spreading across Jisung’s cheeks.

"Of course Jaemin doesn’t have his ex’s number anymore,” Jeno scoffs, making Jisung’s face fall and Jaemin hit him.

"What, you do?"

His friend and boyfriend ignore him as Jaemin texts Jisung Chenle’s number, then starts teasing him mercilessly.


End file.
